Beginnings
by Claddagh10
Summary: A one-shot capturing the beginning of the affair...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**Oh goodness. I have way too many unfinished projects and I am very very sorry. Stopped writing for awhile. Then this popped into my head and would not leave. I hope you enjoy - it's just a two-parter (both parts are done) so there's no worries about me abandoning it. Makes reference to episode 302 and 303, so please don't read if you don't want to be spoiled!**

**Please note the Mature Rating, kay? ;)**

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><p>He never could remember that punching a wall as a vampire caused distinctly more damage than as a human.<p>

Staring at the fist-sized hole, the plaster coating the hardwood floors in dust, Damon gave it one last glare before shaking his head and moving to the bar shelf.

As he took a long drink, he closed his eyes, the screams still echoing in his head, the terror in her voice evident, the pitiful way she'd crumbled after the rescue running through his mind, an endless loop, over and over.

"_Come on, Caroline, snap out of it!" Damon tried not to focus on the burns that weren't healing, the blood congealed on her face, in her hair. The bastard had been starving her so that the torture wouldn't stop, so that she'd be in constant pain. His jaw tightened as she made something close to a whimper and huddled even closer to the floor._

_And then he stiffened, instantly aware of another presence in the room. A presence he had specifically threatened bodily harm to if she followed him. _

_But when had that ever stopped her before?_

_He sped over to her so quickly that she, no stranger to his speed and temper, took a step back. Her eyes pleaded up at him, filling with tears, and he knew she'd already seen the pain her friend was in, the evidence of the torture, and the man's body lying across the floor, neck neatly broken. _

_He opened his mouth, but before he could say one word, one scathing, scolding line to make her leave this place, she wordlessly held up three blood bags._

_He stopped, stared at her for a moment. She was forcing the tears to not fall, and he actually could see the resolve in her face._

_He shook his head, took the blood, but before walking back to Caroline, put up one finger, and leaned close, eyes boring into hers. As always, he heard her pulse scramble. As always, he ignored it._

"_Do not move from this spot, Elena," he growled. "I mean it. She is out of it. You do not want to be close if she smells all that fresh blood running through your veins."_

_Elena swallowed, nodded, never taking her eyes from his._

_Satisfied, he turned back to the broken figure on the floor, ripping open the first bag with one hand, and with the other, touching Caroline's shoulder lightly._

_When she shuddered at his touch, he fought the urge to throw the blood against the wall. Instead, he smoothed his hand over her shoulder, cupped her neck, and turned her slightly so that she could drink._

_The initial sip made her eyes flare, and she hesitated before drinking again. _

"_Goddammit, Caroline," he snapped when she stopped again just after he opened the third bag. "You know you need this, and I don't know what your problem is, but open your mouth and swallow. Now."_

_She gave the faintest smile and finished the blood bag. He smiled back at her, pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and whispering, "Not the first time you've heard that, huh?"_

_She smiled again, shoved at him lightly, but the anguish remained in her eyes. _

_He chuckled and glanced up. Elena had finally listened to him, for once, and stood in the same spot, staring at him speculatively. She made no move to come closer yet, just looked at him with that confused, thoughtful look on her face._

"_Oh, God," Caroline moaned, distracting him. She clutched at his arm, struggled to crawl toward the body on the floor._

"_He's dead," Damon said flatly, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief._

_He looked at Elena again. "What the hell is her problem?" But Elena was crying again, and moved past him to cradle Caroline, who was sobbing on the floor next to the body._

"_It's her father, Damon," she whispered, as she gathered Caroline in her arms, rocking gently on the cold cement floor._


	2. Chapter 2

Damon opened his eyes and took another drink. Two weeks ago, he'd killed Caroline's father. And as Elena had been coaxing Caroline toward the door, the man had awoken with a gasp.

The glass in his hand suddenly shattered, and he rolled his eyes. This was the third piece of crystal he'd broken in as many days, just from letting his thoughts wander while he had a glass in his hand.

Luckily it hadn't been full. God knows what he would do if he kept breaking dishes _and_ wasting whiskey.

The instinct to rip the limbs from Bill Forbes one by one until Damon found the magical jewelry preventing a supernatural death refused to mellow, and he was having a hard time dealing with the fact that the women in his life were refusing to let it happen.

Speaking of which, he thought, as once again Elena seemed to have a knack for finding him during a turbulent moment. For a beat he stood still with his back to her and just listened.

He could tell she was barefoot from the way her feet hit the floor. He heard her run a hand through her hair, which meant it was down. But it took longer than normal for her hair to fall back into place, which meant it was curly. Which meant she hadn't dried it after her shower. Which meant now he was visualizing her in the shower.

Damon rolled his eyes again before turning to face the woman who threatened his already tenuous grip on sanity.

Instantly he wished he would have stayed facing away from her.

Why _on earth_ would she come looking for him while wearing nothing but a robe? A short, silky black robe, at that.

He frowned. That robe looked awfully familiar.

Elena blushed and crossed her arms over her chest. She should really learn that this did absolutely nothing to decrease his lust.

"I, ah, found this in the spare bathroom," she stuck her chin up, trying for bravado. "I assumed it was from one of your…friends? Is that what you call the women you compel to date you?"

The smirk was slow, creeping over his face in stages, as he took in her appearance with more purpose this time. He strolled over to her, grinned before speaking.

"Sweetheart, the women I bring here usually don't bother getting dressed at all." He watched her blush again and let the feeling of victory flow through him.

She was standing right next to the bar, so he plucked another glass up and poured generously, waiting for her to come up with something to say.

They were only standing inches apart, and when he finally looked down at her again, she still had that rosy tint to her cheeks, and she was gnawing on her bottom lip. He groaned inwardly. The worst part was that he honestly didn't think she realized what she did to him.

He turned away, only to be stopped as Elena took the glass from his hand. She took a drink, and to her credit, barely winced, and began to pace. He watched her curiously. Her heart was still beating like a jack-hammer, her cheeks were still flushed, and she was obviously agitated.

"I'm sick of this!" she finally blurted out, turning to face him. He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

She ran her hand through her hair again. He'd been right – her hair was still slightly damp, curling around her shoulders and down her back.

"I know that we're doing the right thing by keeping Mr. Forbes alive," she started, "I _know_ this. But I can't get over the way he treated his own _daughter_. I mean, she still has trouble with blood. It's been two weeks! She needs it to _live_!" Elena looked at Damon, frustration written all over her face. He still said nothing. This was going in a direction he hadn't expected.

"And," she barreled on, "we've spent all this time keeping him in that dungeon, getting the vervian out of his system, compelling him _over _and _over_, and it's not working!" She was getting animated now, waving her arms, and Damon nipped the glass out of her hand before any more of the amber liquid sloshed out. She glared at him.

"Why isn't it working, Damon?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Elena. My guess is that he has some kind of witchy thing like the Gilbert ring that prevents him from being compelled. But it's not a ring – there's nothing on his hands."

She shook her head, dark hair flying, and reached out for the drink again. "I can't stand it, Damon," she admitted, taking another long drink before looking Damon directly in the eyes.

"How can you?"

He tilted his head slightly, questioning, and she took a breath.

"I want him to pay, Damon. I want him to not have another chance to hurt her, to hurt any of you. And if I'm feeling this way, as a human, as someone who has never, ever chosen to see anyone suffer…how can you stand it? Isn't the urge to…"

"Kill him?" Damon's voice was low and deep, and he watched Elena intently. Finally she nodded, and when she spoke again, her voice was steady.

"Yes. To kill him. With your natural instincts, it must be…"

"Driving me crazy?" he finished her thought again, and once again, she nodded.

He stepped closer, a little shocked that they were having this conversation. But she deserved honesty. He'd never given her anything less. The times he'd lied in his attempts to keep her from being murdered didn't count, in his mind.

"Yes, Elena. It is driving me crazy. I have broken three crystal glasses. I am going through blood bags like the Red Cross has a van in my driveway. All I want to do is rip this guy apart for what he did, for what he could do." As he finished speaking, he realized he'd been moving closer and closer to Elena, and he felt the veins around his eyes darken slightly.

She took a step back, the first step back from him she'd taken since she walked in the room. And then her face lit up with pain, and tears sprang to her eyes. He looked at her, confused, and she stepped back again, this time crying out and bending down to look at the floor.

Finally he realized she'd stepped on the broken glass, and was continuing to step on it in her attempts to walk away. Damon swore and swung her into his arms, kicking the glass shards under the table as he carried her to the couch.

Her arms crept around his neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder as she sniffled onto a shirt that had probably cost him more than anyone had a right to pay for something used to dry tears. At that moment, though, he couldn't have cared less.

He reached the sofa and bent low to lay her on the cushions. Her arms lingered around his neck for a beat longer than they should have, and when she finally removed them, she slid them around his neck, down his shoulders and arms, and he made a sound in his throat, something she shouldn't have been able to hear, but she jolted, wrenched her hands into her lap, and stared down at them, not looking him in the eyes.

He blew out a breath and knelt on the floor, swinging her feet onto the couch to inspect the damage. "Sorry, kiddo. That was one of three glasses I mentioned. Forgot all about it when you entered the room." He looked up at her and put a teasing grin on his face. "You have that effect on me."

She lifted her head, but wasn't smiling back at him. Nor was she rolling her eyes or crossing her arms or doing any of the other things she always did when he made suggestive comments, though.

No, she was just looking at him, her lashes wet and spiky, and he couldn't read her expression at all. He lifted a foot, winced as he saw the shards of glass sticking out of the bottom. He set it down, patted her ankle, and stood. "Okay, since I got you in this position, I guess it's only fair that I get you out of it."

He sped off and returned in the blink of an eye, holding a pair of tweezers. Elena was still watching him with that strange expression on her face, and for the first time that he could remember, he was actually uncomfortable. Where was her indignation, her annoyance at the broken glass, the brush off she normally gave his lines?

He finished one foot and started on the other, moving quickly so that it was over almost before her first wince. Blood trickled slowly from the small wounds, and again he felt his eyes change as its scent filled the air.

He was still kneeling at her feet, staring at those tiny punctures, the thin trail of red, but couldn't help himself from glancing up at Elena.

Her expression was the same, but almost…more. Darker. Her heard her teeth grind together once, heard the flutter of her heartbeat as it picked up. She held his gaze and he held hers and it was all he could do to stop his body from covering hers and putting an end to the constant ache he'd felt for so many months.

He unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the arch of her foot, saw just a glimmer of pain, and…something else?...flash across her eyes, and dropped his hand quickly. The movement caught her eye, and he followed her gaze to his hand, now resting on the couch cushion. Her blood coated his thumb, a tantalizing streak of red over his pale skin.

When she spoke, her voice was breathless. "Do you…" she stopped, tried to clear her throat. "Do you want…I mean…how long has it been since you've had…human…" Elena was faltering, losing momentum, losing the courage it had taken her to get out that much, and he was one _second_ away from losing control.

"No," he growled, not noticing that he was leaning closer to her foot and to the blood that was slowly stopping it trickle. He stared at it, couldn't help it, had never felt the urge to drink this badly.

"Why?"

This time he barely heard her, her voice was so low and shaky. Damon tore his gaze from the blood, met her eyes again. Not only did she sound breathless, she actually _looked _breathless, and he felt his jaw muscle twitch.

"Why?" he managed to stand up, to lean over her and rest his hands on either side of her head. "Why do you think, Elena? What could possibly be the reason I wouldn't want to drink your blood?" They were only inches away now, and her breath fanned out, hot on his face.

"What if I want you to?" And this time he _truly_ struggled to hear her, despite their proximity. Time slowed, the thundering of her heart the only thing that existed for him. He leaned closer, the only thing separating their lips now a breath of air.

And she closed the gap.

There was a moment, just a brief moment, where he didn't move, using only the slightest pressure, the barest hint of a kiss. And then she made the softest, sexiest sound he'd ever heard in his life, and suddenly he was kissing her back as though his life depended on it.

He moved a hand to her face, stroking her jaw with his thumb and her neck with his fingers, and her hands came up to grip his shirt, the kiss heating with each passing second. Meeting her tongue with his shattered whatever was left of his control, and he slid on top of her, not breaking contact with her mouth, but settling his body over hers, feeling the silk of her robe slide as he moved against her, plundering her mouth with his, swallowing her sexy little breaths, feeling her hands clutch at his arms, pulling him closer and closer.

He wrenched away, stared down into her hazy, confused eyes. His hand was still cupping her face, and he was distracted by the blood that remained on his thumb. Elena seemed to read his mind, and brought her hand up to his. She gently removed his hand from her cheek, brought it to his mouth. Pressed it to his lips.

She watched through heavy lidded eyes as he swallowed. As he parted his lips, licked slowly the pad of his own thumb with her blood on it, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time. He watched her shiver, felt her fingers entwine with his as he sucked lightly, making sure all the blood was off. Watched her bite her lip, felt her hips rise under him again, pressing against him.

He released his thumb slowly, lowered it to Elena's mouth. When she allowed him to part her lips, he waited. And when she licked his thumb, sucked lightly on it the same way he had, he groaned, and moved his other hand down her body. The robe had shifted, and one shoulder was bare as he stroked over it, down her arm, stopping at her waist. She shifted under him, raised her hips again, sucking his thumb with more force as she felt the fullness of his arousal. Her legs parted, wrapped around him, the robe shifting even more, moving away from her thighs, the belt loosening. With his free hand he tugged on it, desperate to feel her skin. Finally he released the belt, slid his hand to the small of her back, bringing it around again to grip her hips, to feel the lace edge of whatever sure-to-be mouthwatering panties she was wearing, and up her torso.

When he reached her breast, Elena sucked in a breath and bit lightly on his thumb. He wrenched it out of her mouth, gripped a handful of her hair, and bent to kiss her again. He was pulsing against her, one hand was in her hair, the other molding the shape of her breast, finding her nipple, teasing it, twisting it between his finger and thumb, all the while feeling her thrusts, hearing her strangled breaths.

Her hands raced over him, over his back, yanking his shirt up, tugging until he lifted himself up, removed it over his head in one swift movement before returning his lips to her mouth, his hands to her body. She was twisting beneath him, and he reluctantly released her lips, grazing his mouth along her jaw line, nuzzling her neck. She turned her head to allow him better access, gasping as he nibbled with blunt teeth, her hand coming up to grip his hair. Damon could _see_ her pulse quicken, could watch her blood come to the surface as he licked and stroked her neck.

"I'm not going to bite you, Elena," he murmured against her skin, making her shiver. She turned her head back to stare at him. "At least, not this time," he grinned, then lowered his voice to a seductive growl. "But trust me, Elena. When I do…you _will_ like it." Her lips parted to speak and he kissed her again, swallowing her protests. There was little doubt in his head that she _would_ like it. The only reason she was hesitating now was the initial fear.

Her hands resumed their path over his skin, down to his jeans, and he lifted himself slightly so that she could undo the button, slide the zipper down, push at the pants as his mouth bruised hers, his hands claiming every inch of her body. He helped her tug the pants off as he worked his hand down the front of her, stopping again at the edge of her underwear. He felt the tremors in her body as he slid one finger under the lace, groaned against her mouth as he felt the heat, the wetness of her arousal. He shifted, slid his finger directly against her center, swallowed her gasps as he pushed it slowly into her. She was hotter than any fire, and so tight.

"Damon," was all she could get out, a hoarse whisper as she broke away from his kiss, desperate for air. "I…oh, God…Damon." He could feel her begin to clench around him, and placed his thumb lightly on her clit. The orgasm racked over her body, and she gripped his back, pulling him into her neck, pulling him down as she exploded around him.

And then she was frantic, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, curving her hand around his length, her eyes widening at his size but past the point of caring. He felt his speed go a bit out of his control, and had her underwear ripped off before she realized what was happening. He was above her, bracing his arms on either side of her, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly as she helped him push into her, as she widened her legs even more, watched her face change as she stretched to accommodate him. He had never felt so huge in his life, and took care, not wanting to hurt her, but she lifted her hips to meet him, to feel the full length of him, and finally he was there.

And then he was moving, surging into her smoothly, and she was moving with him, those sexy little whimpers forcing him to drive into her harder, and he knew she loved it, knew there had never been two people that fit together this well, that had ever felt this right. With her face cupped in his hands, and her hands gripping his back, he plunged in and out of her until her body shook once more, and then a third time, before he let himself go, filling her with one last thrust as he came hard.

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><p>She had been lost in thought, and he was afraid to ask. But she hadn't moved, hadn't made an effort to cover herself in any way. Still, he remained wary, until she looked at him with those gorgeous eyes. He was relieved that they were free of tears. She looked at him seriously.<p>

"Damon, I can't pretend with you any longer." She picked up his hand and started playing with his fingers. "I won't pretend with you any longer."

He opened his mouth but she put one finger against his lips.

"I have absolutely no idea what to do now. And I'm scared as hell," she smiled ruefully. "But I know my feelings for you are real. And I know yours are too."

"Elena," he interrupted, leaning in to kiss her once. "You are in love with me. And I'm in love with you."

She smiled a little sadly at him and he returned the look.

"I know," she said softly. "We'll get used to it, I guess."

He covered her laugh with another kiss.

**THE END**

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I think you all can take it from there, but in my mind, they figure it out together. And sexily. ;)**


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